Theme Party: Prom Redux

Does the mention of prom make you a little nostalgic? Talk about a flashback.

Kelly and Bill posing before their high school prom.

During your senior year of high school, you’re on the brink of adulthood, about to graduate and head off to college or into the job market. Prom is one of those times you get to pretend to be a real grown up, while still embracing your true age. You dress up in a big, fancy dress or tux, get a stylish updo or haircut, slip on your dancing shoes, take a billion pictures with your date and your best friends for life and spend the night embracing people you may not have even liked, but suddenly will miss terribly. And who can forget the after party? I’m not sure my friend James’ parents, who let my group stay there after prom, have recovered yet.

But as you look back now, you may cringe a little. Oh, that dress! My hair! What was I thinking? And, yes, I was just as awkward as I remember.

While most high schools would rightfully ban people our age from attending prom, who says we can’t have our own? Why do the high school students get to have all the fun?

So, we threw aprom party last weekend. Chaperones be damned, this was our night. While we encouraged everyone to wear their actual prom attire, most of us were disappointed to learn that our formalwear had been long discarded. (Seriously, Mom, how could you not keep my prom dress? What if I really needed that?!) So, instead, most attendees wore new tuxedos, suits from the 1980s, bridesmaid dresses, elegant gowns and even some t-shirts and jeans. Hey, it’s your prom, your way.

And just like prom, upon entry, guests were encouraged to model for a photo with a lovely jungle scene as the background. The carefully-chosen playlist took us back a decade, if not older, and I definitely saw a few people getting handsy during some of the slow songs. While there was no “Blue Moon“, we did find several articles of clothing the next morning.

And, just like real prom, we couldn’t let our guests go hungry or thirsty. Somebody spiked the punch (On second thought, that may have been me, sorry), and there was a traveling tray of buttery nipple shots.

We laughed, we cried, we took way too many pictures, and I had an absolute blast. Our prom went past curfew, and I think some carriages may have even turned into pumpkins.

And when I woke up the next morning, still in my dress, I started picking up the pieces of the night before and taking down streamers and balloons. (The jungle banner is staying up indefinitely, don’t worry.) As I stepped over piles of discarded jackets, pants, dresses and shoes (Seriously, what did you people leave in?!), and tried quietly to not wake the slumbering attendees around my apartment, I couldn’t help but smile. Prom was just as good as I remembered.